


we are the small fish, we swim together

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6619465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton woke up at five am sharp every morning, showered, got dressed, ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, and got to work.<br/>It was a flawless schedule, it had worked for him since college, but now he was an eleventh grade creative writing teacher with a knack for history.<br/>Every morning in the car he would listen to The Smiths and stop at the coffee shop down the road from his apartment to pick up more coffee and then make his way to the school.<br/>John Laurens’ routine was almost identical, except for the fact that he goes to the Starbucks (wow, what a sell-out).</p><p>NOTE- this is going to have slow updates. its just a side project.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are the small fish, we swim together

**Author's Note:**

> hello! welcome to my teacher au hell.  
> note- some of the studetnts  
> margo, riley, zaria, maddie, ryan, quinn, melanie, and data are all based off my real friends!

Alexander Hamilton woke up at five am sharp every morning, showered, got dressed, ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, and got to work. 

It was a flawless schedule, it had worked for him since college, but now he was an eleventh grade creative writing teacher with a knack for history.

Every morning in the car he would listen to The Smiths and stop at the coffee shop down the road from his apartment to pick up more coffee and then make his way to the school.

John Laurens’ routine was almost identical, except for the fact that he goes to the Starbucks (wow, what a sell-out).

-

Alexander Hamilton started his classes out easily every year.

Every year, the assignment was to write anything that came to your mind, whether it be a song you wrote, a fanfiction, a sonnet, the beginning of a song you heard somewhere, maybe even a comic idea. 

Every year he would pick the best five, and based on looks alone, he would read them out loud and have the other students guess who wrote it.

One year there was a hip-hop song written about the Laurens-Lee duel. The next year there was a sonnet about water buffalo. The list could go on and on, but every year, the most unsuspecting ones would have the best pieces.

-

John Laurens had no idea how to teach a current events class. 

He always tried starting out with the same question.

_ What’s happening in your world?  _

Every year he got sarcastic answers from people who didn’t care what was going on, every year he had gotten intelligent answers from future lawyers, every year he got a slew of answers that might make sense with context.

This year he decided to use a more pressing question.

_ Do you really get more if you wait for it? _

The students questioned the topic, some argued against it, some said yes.

One student raised their hand in the back corner of the classroom.

“Yes! You in the yellow sweater!” John called out.

“Okay, since the rest of this classroom is buckwild, I’m just gonna go ahead and say it's a circumstantial question. It depends on how you were raised and your situation. There really is no factual answer.” They said, leaning back in their chair.

“Yes, thank you for pointing that out. What’s your name?” 

“Peggy. Peggy Schuyler.”

“Okay, you’re already my favorite student.” John said, running a hand through his hair.

Another student raised their hand from the opposite corner.

“Uh, no offense, but we don’t know your name yet. And you haven’t called roll.” 

“That’s a great point. Okay, when I call your registered name, reply with your  preferred name and pronouns, okay?” 

“Madison?” 

“Maddie, she/her!”

“Margo?”

“Margo, she/her!”

“Theodosia?”

“Theo, they/them!”

“Georges Washington de Lafayette?”

“George. He/him, and did you really have to say my full name?”

“Sorry, it was funny.”

“Sierra?”

“Sierra, she/her.”

“Violet?”

“Violet, they/them.”

“Cara?”

“Luna, they/them.”

“Zaria?”

“Zari, they/them!”

“Philip?”

“Philip, he/him!”

“Elizabeth?”

“Liz. She/her.”

“Margarita?”

“Peggy, they/them.”

“Ryan?”

“Ryan, he/him.”

“This is a really small class, I think we can cram in talking about our syllabus as this class goes on today.”

A collective groan ran through the class.

“Or I can just let you guys roam wild in the class, socialize.” John added.

“I support that one.” Ryan called from the back of the classroom.

“Okay, you guys can just chill for the rest of the class period, I suppose. Also, I’m Mr. Laurens.”   
-

Across the hall, hell was breaking loose already. Class had began ten minutes previously and there was already drama.

“Hello, most of you are already acquainted, so I’m going to introduce myself. I’m Mr. Hamilton, your creative writing teacher, and-”

“What’s the question on the board for?” A kid with a mop of curly black hair called out.

“Uh, well it’s a prompt, not a question.” Alex rushed out, brushing his stringy hair out of his face.

“What kind of prompt?” The same kid asked again.

“A writing prompt. If you’ll let me finish, I can tell you what we’re doing today, but if you don’t, you’re not gonna do well in this class, because it’s always either writing or listening.” Alex said again, looking at the kid. The kid finally stopped talking, as did the rest of the class.

“Okay, now I’m going to explain some stuff to you guys. I don’t do syllabi, I think they’re stupid, I just follow a loose agenda of assignments in my book. There will be a creative writing piece due every two weeks, with a minimum of one-thousand words, maximum of nine thousand words, okay? And every morning I want you guys to mark off on this sheet whether or not you’re here and we can go off of that to save time. If you forget and don’t mark that’s one strike. I have a three strike system, three warnings and a detention. Then, I’ll still call role, but only the people who marked themselves here, are we clear on that?” 

The class nodded.

“Alright, now we can get started. I’ll call role and you guys will answer with your name and pronouns. Good?” The class nodded again.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure this is not in alphabetical order because I found this stuck on my classroom door this morning and these names definitely aren’t alphabetical. Okay, I’m gonna start now. Hayley?”

“Hayley, she/her!”

“Matthew?”

“Matty, they/them!”

“George?”

“George, he/him.”

“Thayne?”

“Thayne, he/him.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Betsy, she/her!”

“Jon?”

“Jon, he/him!”

“Ariana?”

“Ariana, she/her!”

“Angelica?”

“Angie, she/her!”

“Okay, that seems to be all on my list. I guess this is a small class?”

“Uh,” A small voice chirped from the corner of the room. “You kind of forgot about all of us.”

“Oh, crap. I didn’t flip the page. Okay, um, Troye?”

“Troye, he/him!”   
“Connor?”   
“Connor, he/him!”

“Ashley?”

“Ashley, she/her!”   
“Kira?”

“Data, they/them!”

“Melanie?”

“Melanie, she/her!”

“Quinn?”

“Quinn, he/him.”

“Jasmine?”   
“Jasmine, she/her.”

“Maria?”   
“Maria, she/her.”   
“Cheyenne?”

“Cheyenne, she/her.”

“Riley?”

“Riley, they/them.”

“Okay, that’s the entire class, cool. I’m hoping this classroom can serve as a judge-free, safe space for those who need it. Okay, back to talking about class.” 

A collective groan ran through the class.

“I know, I know. But I’m a teacher.” 

“With all due respect sir, you look like you need to sleep. You’re shaking.” A voice (Matty?) called out.

“Yes, that would be due to the five cups of coffee I had for breakfast today. ANyway, so, back to class. The agenda will be emailed to all of you and you can find it in your school emails. Now, about the prompt-”

“I mean this with no harmful intentions-” A student (maybe Riley?) began.

“No. No. Strictly classwork okay. I know I look like I haven’t slept in a week, and I know that I should worry about my mental and physical health over work, but seriously. Shut up.” 

“Okay. I was just going to say you have a bunch of crumbs on your tie.”

“Oh. Um. Okay.”

Alex rushed to brush off his tie.

“Now! For the prompt! You need to write the first thing that comes to your mind. Turn it in on the desk when you’re done, and I’ll read the top five in the class, now it seems most of you know each other, so I want you guys to guess whose work is whose.” 

The class began writing and soon they were done, all of them finished and turned in.

Once everyone had returned back to their seats, Alex began flipping through the papers.

“Okay, here’s the first one.” Alex cleared his throat. 

“I find it hard to say "bye bye"   
Even in the state of you and I   
And how can I refuse?   
Yeah you rid me of the blues   
Ever since you came into my life   
Cause you're my medicine   
Yeah, you're my medicine   
I, I wanna marry you   
Said I, I adore you   
And that's all I have to say, bye-bye   
And you opiate this hazy head of mine.”

He finished, and a blush crept up Matty’s neck.

Matty raised his hand as George’s hand grabbed the other.

“It was George.” They said, blushing even more.

“Why do you believe it’s George?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because he wrote the last line on my arm last weekend when he left my house. Also because he kept texting me about more lyrics for it.”

“Okay! Next one!”

HE cleared his throat again.

“I like it when you sleep, for you are beautiful but unaware of it.” 

“Is that all the paper says?” Riley called out.

“Fuck raising hands, it was probably Matty!” Data hollered.

“Why?” Alex questioned, looking them in the eye.

“Because it’s bisexual as hell! And so are they!”” 

Matty turned around to retort something, but was cut off when they realized they were right.

“Matty, don’t bother.” George said, placing a hand on their shoulder.

“Okay! Next one!”

He grabbed another scrap of paper off his desk.

“I’m sorry I ignore you every time you open your mouth,

I have great intentions just an inability to pay attention,

Every single conversation we’ve ever has gone south.

I remember seventh grade art class, you stressing because you couldn’t get your hair straight for picture day.

I’ve loved you since we met

But now it feels I’m caught in a net

Watching you wear his jackets

Strutting around town

In love

When all he ever wanted was your pants down.” 

A whistle came from across the classroom and some students snapped.

“That was actually really good! Any ideas of who wrote this?”

“I think it was Troye.” Violet said, shrugging their shoulders.

“Um- excuse me, Mr. Ham, can I go to the bathroom?” Connor asked, standing up.

“Yeah, take a hall pass.”

Connor left the classroom, stalking off towards the bathrooms.

“So, Violet, what makes you think it was Troye’s writing?” 

“He was moping around last year because Connor got a boyfriend who fucked him and then broke up with him, and yeah.””

“Thank you for filling me in on the gossip, Mx. Jay.” 

“Anytime, anytime.”

“So, Troye, is this a poem about jealousy, or is it a perspective poem?” Alex asked Troye.

“Jealousy.” Troye muttered.

“Thank you for sharing, Troye. The next one is really, really sad.”

He grabbed the next one where it was lying facedown on his desk and was about to read it when there was a knock on the door.

“Hey, um, you’re Mr. Hamilton, right? I found this petition nailed to the teacher workroom when I went to go get some more coffee. You know you could have just asked me for that doughnut, right? You didn’t have to start a petition to get me fired? And also, who is ‘Fuckface Jefferson?’ I’m a first year teacher here and-”

“Okay, first- I’m in the middle of teaching a class. Second- I really wanted that doughnut. Third- Thomas Jefferson is a tenth grade English teacher with a hatred for the Oxford comma. Finally- Who are you?” 

“I’m John Laurens.” John stuck a hand out to Alex and firmly shook it.

“Alexander Hamilton.” He replied wearily, and turned back to his class.

“You guys talk for a bit in here, I’m gonna go clear this up with Mr. Laurens.”

The class grew into a sea of whispers as Alex and John left the classroom to discuss the petition, and Alex shook his head as he exited the classroom. 

“You know,” Alex started. “You’re kinda cute, for a social studies teacher.” 

“You’re kinda… Eh, for an english teacher.” John replied.

“Charmed. Now, what was that about a petition and doughnuts?” Alex chirped, leaning against the door.

“Well, a few minutes ago, I’d ran out of coffee so I ran off to the teachers’ lounge and I found this pinned to the bulletin board, I looked closer, and this is a three thousand word rant on me stealing the last chocolate glazed sprinkle doughnut. There’s also a petition. It has three signatures, one is yours, one is Lee’s, and one is… Washington’s?” John said.

“Oh! Yeah, I convinced him to sign my petition.”

“Yeah, evidently.”

“I have to return to my class. now. You should too.” Alex said, turning on his heels.

John stood in the doorway silently, waiting for him to turn back around and finish the conversation. 

-

When second period started, John knew that this class would be a difficult bunch.

As he called roll and went through the movements, there were already four kids on their phones. 

“Okay, guys. I’m Mr. Laurens, and I want you guys to answer the question on the board. You can raise your hand and answer it or you can write it and give it to me if you’re too shy to answer.”

Ariana raised her hand to answer.

“I’m sure Mr. Burr could tell you, but I don’t think you get much from waiting for it. You can wait as long as the world exists and get nothing, but you could charge in headfirst and get what you want the moment it starts. Take Hamilton and Burr in history, Hamilton took what he wanted, he just kept taking, and Burr just kept waiting.” She explained.

“You’re making a really good point! Thank you for answering.” 

John grabbed the green dry erase marker off the tray and wrote something.

“Okay, Ariana brought up Burr and Hamilton, now what are some other historical examples?” John asked, turning back to the class.

Violet raised their hand.

“Well, if we’re talking about the Revolution and things in that era, maybe Laurens and Lee? They had the duel because Lee was spreading slander about Washington and Laurens wouldn’t stand for it. He ended up shooting him in the side.” 

“That’s really good.” John said, turning back to the board to scribble Laurens v. Lee on the board.

Another student raised a hand.

“Ooh! Okay, so George Eacker and Philip Hamilton had a duel over Hamilton’s affair because Eacker was being an asshole about Alexander Hamilton. Eacker shot before the count was done and he didn’t wait for it. I think you can get more if you don’t wait for it, also.”

A knock rang out from the door.

Alex walked into the classroom, eying down John.

“You took down the petition.”

“Yeah, it was slandering my name. We should duel, if it means that much to you.”

“Weehawken. Dawn. Guns drawn.” Alex joked, and promptly turned out on his heels.

A student walked into the classroom.

“Hi, um. I got lost. I’m Sasha, Sasha Hutchings. I’m supposed to be in here.” She said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah! You can sit wherever there’s a free seat, feel free to insert yourself into the conversation in the class.” John said, gesturing around the class.

“Cool.” She went and sat down next to Ariana.

“Okay, back to business! Anybody else have any more input?”

The class was silent in response.

“Cool! You guys can socialize the rest of the class.”

John walked back out of the classroom to go to the teacher’s lounge and grab a third cup of coffee when he was cut off by a student.

“Can you tell me where Mr. Hamilton’s class is?” They asked, scratching their head.

“Yes! It’s right here, in A119. What’s your name?” 

“I’m Ryan.” 

They walked off into the classroom and John turned back around and went on his way to the teacher’s lounge.

He got his coffee and walked into Alex’s room, leaning against the doorway.

“Hello, did your student find their way in here?” 

“Yes, they did. Have you seen…” Alex looked down at his clipboard. “Justin Laboy?”

“I don’t even know who that is, honestly.”

“Fair enough.”

-

That day when John got back from the school, he showered, ate leftovers, and instantly fell asleep when he hit the pillows. 

-

When Alex got home from work that night, he worked on his story for the magazine he had been working on, staying up until at least four in the morning.

-

When he showed up in the teacher’s lounge the next morning, he was tired. He woke up at five, showered, and got to school, half asleep and sleep deprived.

“Long night?” Jefferson smirked.

“I hate you.” Alex groaned, grabbing a mug of coffee from the counter.

John walked into the teacher’s lounge, oversized coffee cup in hand.

“You look like you had a rough night.” He remarked.

“You don’t even know. I was up writing up until like, four. I wake up at five.” 

John whistled.

“Damn, Hamilton. You should take a nap.” Lee remarked from across the lounge.

“Shut the fuck up, Lee.” Alex replied, downing his coffee.

Alex exited the teacher’s lounge right as Madison walked in, shaking his head at him.

Alex walked straight to his classroom, even ignoring as Dolley Payne ran down the hallway to catch up to him.

“Alex! Have you met the new current events teacher? I met him yesterday and I thought you might be interested.” Dolley asked, bouncing on her toes.

“Yeah, he confronted me yesterday about my petition.” 

“Cool! I can hook y’all up?” Dolley suggested, leaning against the doorframe. 

“I’m good. My last relationship didn’t go very well. At all. You should know that.”

“You’re right, sorry Alex.”   
“How are things with James?” He asked, opening his door so she could come in.

“He’s a really sweet guy. I think I’m actually in love with him. He’s so little I can carry him on my back.”

“That’s… really cute actually. I’ll see you around, debate kids are coming down the hall now. Bye, Dolley.”   
“See ya, Ham.” Dolley nodded, bounding off somewhere else.

Today was going to be a long day.

**Author's Note:**

> title from king of the world by weezer


End file.
